Yet I Cannot Be Sorry
by Oreo
Summary: An actual Bible...not fanfic, but fiction based on the Bible. About the two most interesting stories in the Bible. Take it as you will.


  
  
AN: Well, this is possibly the first piece of fiction in the Bible Section which is actually based on the Bible. I feel special and gratified and stuff.  
  
If you can't tell who this is about, I included the handy Bible quotes in the corresponding type. If you still don't know what's going on, well, goat, you're stupid.   
Isaiah 14:12-14 "How you are fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How you are cut down to the ground, You who weakened the nations! For you have said in your heart: I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God; I will also sit on the mount of the congregation on the farthest side of the north; I will ascend above the heights of the clouds, I will be like the Most High."   
  
_Matthew 27: 3-6 "Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that to us? see thou to that. And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself. And the chief priests took the silver pieces, and said, It is not lawful for to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of blood."_  
--  
  
It is all I can do.   
  
It is all I can do to watch. It is too much to ask that I take part, that I praise him.   
  
I cannot praise him anymore. I want to hurt those who praise him. And I know that is wrong and I hate myself for my wanting. Can they not see? Can they not see how it is?   
  
He kills. I have no objection to that; he is God! He must be able to kill, he has to kill. It is the way of mortals.   
  
But what he kills for.   
  
He kills randomly, as the whim strikes him. He favors "his" people over others; he does not see all as equal.   
  
And I cannot take it. Yet I am his, because he created me.   
  
I love you, Lord.   
  
But what happens when you do this?   
  
I fear for all because I love you, and, therefore, I love those who you have created.   
  
--  
  
_ Watch out, Lord.   
  
There's more and more of them all the time.   
  
You cannot control them.   
  
I love you, Lord.   
  
But what happens when you say something they don't like?   
  
I fear for you because I love you.   
  
_ --  
  
I cannot be free.   
  
It is all I wish for. I can have anything here. Everyone is completely content.   
  
I cannot be happy until I am free.   
  
--  
  
_ He does not care.   
  
Look at the crowd! He loves the attention.   
  
He has lost his message. He is moody, acting on whims. He does not know how to control them.   
  
There will be riots.   
  
There will be fights.   
  
There will be war.   
  
And if I let him go now, if I go to them…it will hurt. It will be so hard. Yet I cannot take it anymore. I cannot let myself think of Him. If he keeps going, it will be much worse.   
  
I will go to them.   
  
He must die.   
  
_ --  
  
There are others.   
  
Others who see it.   
  
Others who feel it.   
  
Others who need their freedom.   
  
We are together.   
  
And, strangely, I am ready.   
  
I love him.   
  
But I cannot be His anymore.   
  
--  
  
_ My God, my God.   
  
I love Him. I love Him more than anything.   
  
But I cannot let it go on.   
  
I cannot let him go on.   
  
He will continue.   
  
And there will be more people.   
  
And he cannot control them.   
  
What happens if they think he is doing wrong?   
  
They will kill him.   
  
Better He is killed out of love than hate.   
  
I keep telling myself that.   
  
I will see them tonight.   
  
_ --  
  
Oh, my God, my God!   
  
You cannot.   
  
You will not.   
  
You have.   
  
You have thrown us out.   
  
I am lost.   
  
Help me, Lord.   
  
--  
  
_ My Lord.   
  
I did it.   
  
I told them.   
  
They took him.   
  
They whipped him.   
  
They hung him on a cross.   
  
I took their money.  
  
My God, forgive me, forgive me.   
  
I did it for out good.   
  
He was innocent.   
  
I am lost.   
  
Help me, Lord.   
  
_ --  
  
Yet I cannot be sorry.   
  
Forgive me.   
  
--  
  
Yet I cannot be sorry.   
  
Forgive me.   
  
--  
  
  
(c'est moi.)  
i am not sorry lord   
i cannot call you god   
it is too much to ask   
i don't know if you're real   
but i don't care   
this is a conscious rejection:  
i don't know if there's a god or not   
but i refuse him   
if he exists.   
take it as you will.   
_yet i cannot be sorry_


End file.
